Panacea
by Miko-chan
Summary: In healing, there is another thing you use aside from needles and pills. [AU, Sasusaku]
1. Chapter 1

_"Do you even know what you are asking?" _

_The blast of the winter air chilled her to the bone as it drifted from the open car window. However the young doctor hardly noticed that she was freezing. The fierce glare from her revered instructor was already enough to melt the ice that she knew formed on her sweaty brow. She got her constricted throat spoke after the intense stare turned away from her. _

_"Yes." _

_She did not even need to glance at her mentor, the greatest physician she ever has known, to know that the woman was deeply agitated. "You are one of the most talented trainees I have ever handled." The older woman pressed a well-manicured finger to the button, automatically closing the open window. "Surely you have already thought of the consequences of your actions." _

_"Tsunade-shishou." _

_The driver of the car pursed her lips and remained silent. _

_She averted her gaze to the dark night sky flecked with white flakes behind the tinted glass panes, the city lights a blur as they sped up on the road. "I have to do this." _

_The other woman turned the steering wheel forcefully as the vehicle rounded around the corner. "This is not in your jurisdiction." _

_"I'm a doctor." The younger one was never one to back down from her superior in their match of wills. "His doctor." Those clean fingers now gripped the clean lapels of her coat tightly. She would not admit that she was afraid doing this alone. But it did not escape from the scrutinizing gaze of her superior that she sat up more rigidly than the usual. _

_"Then don't cross the line." The woman tightened her hold on the clutch beside her. She did not need to emphasize what she meant. "He will not hesitate to kill you." _

_Her eyes became steely jades that Tsunade could not help but be proud of, alight with a unrecognizable fervor._

_"Let's see."_

* * *

The frantic waves of whispers around her were ignored as she walked briskly in the well-lighted hallways. She hardly gave any notice to the white-washed walls marked with blood. As soon as her closed leather shoes passed through the swinging doors, the chaos was suddenly silenced, as everyone turned their heads to her. 

Her heels clacked on the tiles tenaciously as she saw him for the very first time.

The orderlies tried to constrain him as he struggled against the bound leather straps. The patient had been transported some time earlier in a mattress that had many coarse leather straps that bound every limb to the bed frame, trying to take away all the chances of escape.

(She spared a glance towards the dark crimson patterns on the tiles and the white gown that was stained with crusty, hardened layers of blood. It was like a painting, with the discarded scalpel resembling like a morbid brush leaving grave swirls on a blank paper.)

He considered her with a skeptical glare as she slowly reached out to brush his arm with her fingers.

With a pliant touch on his shoulder, she nodded to a nearby assistant, stretching her other hand for the syringe. Then without warning, she swiftly added pressure on that tender spot on his upper limb.

He screamed. The sound pierced through the thick hospital walls and evoked horrific reactions from her fellow residents. Different profanities flew to her ears, colorful words that were never really said in her profession for a long time. She managed to hold the arm in place with a grasp that exerted all of her strength as he tried once more to free himself.

She pricked him with the needle and pressed down the barrel carefully. His captivating ebony eyes widened in surprise as he felt the heavenly, floating effect of the drug ensnaring him.

He hissed in protest and stared at her murderously. Her keen senses caught breath of words from his moving, silent lips. She leaned forward to hear it, despite protests from her present accomplices.

"I will kill you," he murmured endlessly, his eyelids slowly drooping to a close.

His muscles gradually stop twitching as the medicine takes its full effect.

She was strangely fascinated with the grotesque expression on his beautiful, feminine-like features that graced his face.

_How perfect he is._ She mused to herself.

Her whole senses were only attuned to his peaceful breathing and his clammy skin under her touch. She could neither see those interested stares nor hear their fascinated whispers about this odd behavior.

The next morning, she found him sitting on the windowsill. His admirable face was stoic and unreadable, as if it was carved from ivory. The sunlight filtered through the window, falling on the residing occupant in the room, highlighting his profile as he sat on his bed. Those silhouette-colored eyes were directed towards some unknown point in the cerulean-tinted sky.

* * *

"Good morning, Uchiha-san." 

There was a bundle of daffodils in a delicately crafted vase. He glanced at them suspiciously.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you." She spoke cheerfully, for she was not really accustomed in only hearing flutter of curtains in a room with people. She turned her back to him, grabbing the chart beside the beautifully arranged flora on his bedside table. "I'm going to ask you a few questions today."

He merely stared at the flowers that lay innocently inside the vase.

"Who sent them?" His voice is like dark, silky velvet on her skin.

She managed to smile at him, even though he was glaring at her furiously. "Well, probably someone thought you could use a little bit of cheering up." With one roving gaze, her skilled eyes quickly assessed him.

He was a handsome young man, with his body sculpted to explain why many nurses visit this ward quite often. A fine chiseled face, a perfectly pointed aristocratic nose and his pale prominent cheeks accentuated by his silky, black mane that she secretly envies. "After all, this place is a little bit maddening, isn't it?"

His reaction to her statement was quite astonishing. His eyes suddenly bulged and he bared his teeth at her in anger. A pained gasp came out of her lips when his hand shot out and held her wrist in a vise grip.

"Let me out." he stated low and clearly, the threat of death ringing loudly in her ears.

She wrestled against him, trying to pull away from those terrifying fingers. Her heart started to sped up suddenly in horror and she wished so hard that she could scream for help. The fact that her vocal strings got so tangled when he held her terrified gaze with his breathtaking eyes made the effort to scream useless.

"I-I.." She stuttered, recalling the words of her instructor to never, ever give false reassurances to patients.

"Let me out." He hissed, stressing his demand by digging his blunt nails into her skin even more.

"I-I can't!" she half-yelped, her fingers uselessly trying to pry his tight ones from her fragile wrist.

There might have been too much adrenaline flowing in his veins as he roughly maneuvered her to be thrown against the nearby table, she thought desperately. In a state of panic, she nearly shrieked. "But I can help you!"

Suddenly, his excruciating clutch was gone. His intense stare burned stinging holes on her, as if to replace the recent threat of those hands. Labored breaths filled the tense silence but she could only perceive the loud pounding that drummed in her ears.

She slowly gained back her composure as she rubbed her reddened forearms.

He sat rigidly on his place, now staring at the innocent flowers that danced against the morning breeze that flitted from the open window.

He breathed normally, acting as if nothing happened.

Hurried footsteps now reverberated on the hallways. It was no mystery to everyone what occurs if anyone dared to start a conversation with him.

"Your blood pressure." She took the cuff on his bedside, grateful that her hands did not shake. "May I?"

* * *

Revising **Panacea.**

(Dedicated to Lala-chan. Also known here in as PaperWings28 in try to make the updates faster.

Now, review.


	2. Chapter 2

She was shaken off her restless sleep when her beeper scintillates an annoying high-pitched alarm. The small screen was inscribed with a request for emergency help for all free interns in a certain floor. Her mind was suddenly clear, and she started thinking with a prayer to the heavens that the situation was not caused by any of his violent outburst.

Her hopes, however, were dashed when a nearly hysteric nurse ran in her office.

_Uchiha-san is dangerously at risk to himself and the others again. _

The patient had thrown the delicate, transparent vase on the ground containing the flowers she had placed there earlier and threatened to slit his wrist unless they comply with his demand to be discharged from the hospital. No amount of coaxing had made him move away from the open windows. (He would jump if they intend to subdue him with force)

She listened raptly with a grim expression and hurriedly pushed her arms through the armholes of her coat with a force she never thought she could pull off when sleepy.

Her heels, pacing so quickly, clacked simultaneously on the floor. She suddenly ran towards at the crowd of people that had gathered in front of that familiar door. Her anger, already reached its boiling point, could not be restrained now.

"Everyone out of this room!" She pointed towards the end of the corridor.

"But sensei!" An intern protested as she glowered at everyone.

"I will handle this. Now, everyone get out. "

"He is not your designated patient for this shift, Haruno-sensei!" Another intern retorted, sullen. "Yakushi-sensei gave specific orders not to interfere with his affairs--"

She interfered with the concealed reprimand on that statement and stopped their increasing complaints with a growling answer "You can all inform Yakushi-sensei about this."

"But--sensei!"

"Out." Her hardened emerald orbs glittered dangerously. "Now."

An uncomfortable calm settled inside the room as they were helpless to do anything but comply with the fiery proclamation. The footsteps dwindled after thirty seconds of her stern command.

She now glared at the most troublesome patient she has ever encountered in her whole practice.

_That smirk._ She could not help but notice the unwinding of something tight in her chest. But when she saw the piece of shrapnel he poised so gracefully at the arc of his wrist, a sudden flame of loathing flared inside her.

She marched towards him as he placed the sharp edge at his skin. He motioned to slice it open and--

"Cut it across the base of your neck!"

He blinked and failed to stain the white sheets, which was a great relief. "What?"

She forgot the policies, protocols and _to hell with the standards_! Because she was really infuriated with him and hollered a retort. "I said, cut it across the--"

"I know, dammit! Why are you telling me?"

"You'll die faster. Messy, but it's more effective." Her thunderous voice filled the air.

_He will not kill himself. She knows this. He cannot die yet. _

His murky eyes held astonishment as he held the thin blade-like crystal glass still in his fingers. She came to stand in front of him, placing her hands on his pliant wrist. His burning stare slowly grazed her from head to foot, staring at her as if it was the first time he ever saw her.

The anger that burst from her suddenly diffused from his cold gaze. All she felt now was mortification because she just realized of how disheveled and unbecoming she looked at this instant. Her light strawberry short tresses that cascaded out the confines of her half-finished ponytail were awry and her lips were slightly cracked from the cold wind. Deep inside her, she was grateful that her unflattering chest was covered in that clean, pale colored coat.

Her thoughts turned swiftly and cautiously, she held his fingers and closed them around that blasted piece of vase. He did not withdraw, to her slight surprise. Instead he removed his observing eyes off her and turned his attention to the shattered pieces and the scattered, blanched flowers on the dull floor. She was taken aback when he spoke unexpectedly.

"Are you insane?"

She could not blame him to doubt her mind, as this place has tested her sanity as well.

"I said I will help you." Her words were barely distinguishable as an effort to remain calm. "Remember?"

She bit her lip nervously, but her brows drew together and again there was that intoxicating glitter in her foam-green eyes.

"Uchiha-san," she whispered, as if afraid of breaking something if she raised her voice a decibel higher. "Can you go to sleep now?"

Finally, the tension in the room eased into tranquility. He did not know why she sighed as the glass shard fell out of his grasp.

A couple of workers had peeked cautiously inside the room and tried to get her to return to her office to rest. But she discovered that it was more refreshing to sit beside his bed and watch how the ruined batch of daffodils dance magnificently with the rhythm of the tender, pacifying wind that blew in gently from the window.

She briefly wondered if the flower shop would be open as early as dawn when she buys some ramen for breakfast tomorrow.

She took this time of the night to watch him slumber, those drowning dark depths gone to disturb her.

* * *

The respected resident has just finished with her rounds and was now back in her office, donning the coat off from her shoulders. Her system craved for some caffeine. She was about to oblige herself with a cup when she recalled that she forgot to lock the window in Uchiha Sasuke's room.

Others could, of course, have taken care of that simple problem. There was no way he could catch a cold with those kinds of physical attributes. _("With pectorals like those, he's perfectly capable of himself." Her stupid inner voice taunted.)_ There was also no way he could attempt to break out from such a place without any grueling plan. But she decided to go to his room herself for a selfish reason--a _stupid_ reason: to see him before she went home for the day.

And in her world, everything she did needed a reason. She had learned that if there was no logic in her every action, there would always be corresponding consequences to follow.

As she neared his room, she wondered if she was just imagining some pained whimpering that was muffled at the end of the hall. Turning around a corner, she can clearly hear the droning voice of the head nurse for the early morning endorsements for the AM shifters. Sakura tried to catch the eyes of the nurses to see if they also heard the stiffled noise, but the ladies merely avoided eye contact because of the previous incident.

She was finally in front of his door when she heard an agonized wail that went straight to her heart.

She scolded herself silently why she forgot to remember that there is a reason that he hated sleep.

Opening the door with a calculated turn, she glimpsed his furrowed brows and fists that clenched his blankets. Drenched in tons of sweat, he trashed around the bed with an awful force. Luckily enough the bed rails were up, the window locked shut and the table was no longer within his reach. She made a mental note to thank those ladies who fell prey to his dangerous charm and checked up on him more often than she does.

He was murmuring curses and promises of vengeance and murder, thrashing about on his bed even more violently.

She lowered the steel rails of his bed without hesitation.

"Sasu--Uchiha-san." She clutched his shoulders in alarm.

For a moment she contemplated that she lost her mind when his eyes snapped open, those strange pair of onyx bleeding as they were now merged with the color of metallic blood.

Never in her life did the sight of blood, which every medical advocate were frequently accustomed of, strike fear in her.

For several moments, she was dumbstruck. He was saturating the white linens with his sweat. A pillow was thrown forcefully at the foot of the bed, its cover torn. The expression of utmost fury was etched upon his face.

"A-Are you alright?" She stammered.

Suddenly he threw the blankets off his body and retched viciously on the floor. The scent of vomit made her nauseated as well, but she controlled her reactions. She made another mental note to ask the others if this happened a lot.

She grabbed the thrown blanket and managed to envelope it over the messy spill. Then she frantically pushed the call light as she discarded her coat to wipe the excess from his mouth. Her cool hand moved to his burning forehead, brushing the fine strands of ebony from his face. Ragged breaths shook his body and again she found her wrist encircled by his bruising grip. Her panicking mind was overwhelmed with relief that his eyes were now back to its usual glinting molten ebonies.

"Leave me," he released an indrawn air, "alone."

She was not in the mood to retort that he must stop gripping her wrist so tightly if he really wants her to abandon him, so she just sat on the mattress. "It was only a nightmare."

It seems as if everything that comes from her mouth was a fuel to his raging loathing. "No!" he snapped.

"But--" She was told on her first day not to believe anything he says. She tried to ignore those rules as anxiety grew when he kept his burning gaze away from her shaking eyes.

"It was real." He whispered to her, as if the matter was maddeningly confidential.

"What did you dream of?"

_But she already knew that those dreams were filled with littered corpses and spilled blood on grime._

"Please?" She held back the offers of assurance (because it was not allowed.), even though comforting words were most needed in situations like this. Sitting beside his weak form and exposing herself to help him without reserve was all she could so to relieve him off his delusional, horrifying visions.

"He killed them."

He narrowed his coal eyes, sensing her trepidation. His fingers finally unclasped her hold on her but her own hand grasped back firmly to keep him from retreating. She spoke quietly, "Go on."

_"I will kill him."_ She froze, never expecting to hear them again. "And not even this damn place can stop me."

"Uchiha-san?" Absentmindedly, her thumb brushed over his palm. Desperately, she wanted him to realize that this conversation was frightening yet could not attempt to point it out. With a bated, nervous breath, her forehead touched his damp ones with closed lids. "Would you want me to stay?"

His indifferent gaze finally registered that she was trembling and trying anxiously to conceal it. He settled his head on the soaked mattress and gave her the briefest, minute smirk.

"You are annoying."

A rush of blood filled her pale cheeks and he, fortunately, closed his eyes before he caught sight of it.


	3. Chapter 3

She nearly reached the point of leaving this ward earlier than what was planned. However, requirements stated on blaring text that she stays here for a month or she will lose everything that her nine years of training had paid for. A lose-lose situation.

But the compliment that her first week on the field, as quoted by the medical genius named Yakushi Kabuto, was impressive made the amount of paper work that she signed (almost over the half of the whole department) worth facing.

The result of the formation of dark circles forming beneath her face made everyone apprehensive about her health. She was always visible on the corridors with either a book or a chart in hand during night and early morning shifts.

She only replied to her superior that all of them must have experienced the same sleepless nights.

Unfortunately, the older physician already knew what was really keeping his subordinate awake all was evening and responded to her confidently a grin that hid--or knew-- too many things.

"Be careful."

She knew better than to back out right now. With a gentle click of her pen, she finally realized that this work will take more than just reading data.

* * *

It was now blatantly obvious to everyone that the willowy, young doctor was the only one who could communicate comprehensibly with the infamous enigmatic, brooding patient in their ward. This always caused the nurses to give more time on flourishing the grapevine gossips, catching their attention when she happens to pass by their location.

She never really has that intimidating presence that her mentor commands.

"Sakura-chan?" called the head nurse. "I think you should take a break."

"I'm alright."

However, she knew that no one would be fooled with the way she always she rubbed her aching temples with her callused hands. It was always useless to straighten the knots in her (slightly) wide forehead.

"I have been ordered to give you this."

"Shizune-san?" The black haired older woman, one of her fellow residents in the area, approached her with a smile that mirrored her own. She was one of her few comrades that she instantly recognized when she moved here, as they were both taught with the same vexation from their exhausting professor.

Her senior then deposits on her desk a basket filled with--

"Apples?" She incredulously looks at the ripe, scrumptious delights with confusion.

"You didn't eat yet, right?" A wry smile made its way on the fellow resident's lips. "So is he."

She had to admit though, that even if the gossips were rampant, she did not mind it at all.

* * *

"Good morning, Uchiha-san."

She sat on the provided chair beside him. Normally, there would be no given seats to those with terminal conditions such as this case. It was placed there once the whole establishment realized that there was only one individual who would visit him on the most unlikely hours.

Apprehensively, she glanced at her exposed arms. Her fellow sniggering and nosy colleagues at the office hid her coat, revealing the crimson sleeveless blouse and white Capri pants she wore for today. They chuckled and told her that it was a chance for her to stop being so uptight with work. She glared at them and heatedly snapped that he would not even notice.

She was right. He sat there comfortably relaxed with an arm lazily perched on the bed frame, not even looking at her uneasiness.

The silence that stretched between them was to be expected.

"Did you eat breakfast?" She fiddled with her thumbs on her lap like a smitten idiot teenager.

This is why she hates going out without the damned coat.

The tray beside her was glinting ominously at her, still filled with the horrible meals cooked by the gross chef down the cafeteria. It was by horrible experience she learned that hospital food is never edible, less palatable.

_Idiot._ The word kept on repeating in her head.

"Do you want apples?" She added, hoping to clear the sudden awkwardness.

There was no response. Knowing that people like him were instructed to eat and she needing to, she finally grabbed an apple and began peeling. At least, the sound of the shredding of skin would be enough to fill the deafening, wordless conversation they were having.

That single idea was already enough for a minute smile to her lips.

Unbeknownst to her, a lone visible eye scrutinized her actions. He carefully observed at how precise she holds the knife in her hands. There was an undeniable firmness and control at how she cut through the fruit with an easy concentration. The graceful, yet simple act was almost flawless.

She held a plate to him and he noticed the calluses on her hands

He wondered how in the world those fingers could be so _gentle_.

"Woman." Her outstretched offering lowered in mid-air. "What are you doing?"

"Providing you food?"

_Those glares he always throws to everyone_. She pouted at the way his eyes narrowed into slits. _It will be the death of him someday--along with that rude, dirty mouth of his._

"Do you know who I am?" He managed to say, demanding to be answered.

"No." She remarked, unconcerned.

_He is Uchiha Sasuke. _

"Then stop doing this."

_She knew him for her entire life._

"I won't." She replied frankly. "Now eat."

_His whole family was murdered in the span of four hours on that night._

He stubbornly refused as she holds a piece to him, gritting his teeth in irritation.

"I won't."

_He was admitted in the institute two months ago. That same night._

"Stop being a kid." She scolded as her hand slapped away the obscuring arm that kept her from shoving this delectable fruit into his mouth.

_Why in the world would they--?_

He blatantly ignored her as his head turned sharply towards the window again. It was futile, however, when she suddenly grabbed his chin towards her direction.

_He could not even remember--?_

A sly finger pinched his nose and took the opportunity of an open mouth to stuff it with three apple slices.

_It does not matter now. She has work to do._

"Don't you _dare_." A dangerous glower made her deathly serious as she held his face with one strong hand, his expression comical and aghast at what was happening.

She could barely contain herself from bursting to giggles. _It's payback. _He always caused those dark, marring circular marks on her flawless arms. "Don't you ever dare to spit that out. They're expensive."

It was medically impossible for him to swallow those large chunks without choking himself, but he managed somehow with a cough and a glower. She only smugly grinned.

"Well?"

He mumbled about sweet things being the cause of an early death.

A slender pink eyebrow shot upwards. "I was sure I ordered you to eat anything."

He faintly recollected that the instructions about his diet were supposed to be anything he tolerated.

"Come on, Uchiha-san." She curled her lips upward as if to mock him to deck her out. "Say '_ah_'."

Apparently, he had enough and threw the blankets off as he finally stood up, an indication that he was totally vexed with her harassment. He trampled on the rose-colored fruit skins, uncaring. She looked at him, flustered, as he grabbed the plate and walked off the room.

_Those records were a fallacy. _

"If you throw that out," She warned as she followed him outside, her hands on each side of her hips sternly. Her patient only spared a moment in front of the glaring bold letters 'Biodegradable' on top of the black container. "I'll give you shots."

_Lies._

"Tch." He returned back to the room, shoving the tray back to her chest with a disgruntled face.

_She will never believe that she already lost him._


	4. Chapter 4

A slow tapping on her shoulder alarmed her.

"Sakura-chan"

Whirling around, she met with a pair of spectacles glinting from the blaring light.

"Yakushi-sempai."

It is a little bit alienating to find someone as young as him, with long silvery tresses and similar professional coat, trying to be cordial with you.

"No need to call me that, Sakura-chan." He flipped the brown-old pages; its aging scent indicated how long the patient had been in the facility. The consultant-on-duty clucked his tongue in disapproval as something transcribed in the paper made him anxious." You seem to take an interest to Sasuke-kun."

"Uchiha-san?" She crossed her fingers mentally. "Oh no, no. Kabuto-sempai. He's a very interesting case and he--"

"He missed his medications for five times this week." That smile on his face deeply perturbed her.

"His condition is stable right now." She responded with an equal measure of amiability. "You don't need medicine when there is nothing to cure."

It was disturbing when he was not even ruffled. "You have to consult it to the chief, then."

Deep inside her, there was this sinking feeling that grins like that were really signals of impending doom for her.

His hands held out the charts and stretched her hands to reach. The feel of cold metal on her skin numbed her hold and they clattered clumsily to the floor.

"I told you to be careful."

The silence that settled between them made her pulse jump.

"So-sorry." She stuttered, trying to ignore that leering gaze over her.

"Haruno-san." He inclined his head in mock concern, the edge of his rough coat sliding her cheek. "He will never recognize you."

* * *

It was daunting to know that such a dreary hospital had this type of office. 

There were plush, carpeted floors underneath her feet. Some majestic canvases were on the delicately furnished walls. The hanging chandelier in the waiting room spoke volumes of glinting prices for the luxury coach she was currently sitting on.

_She did not know what to do._ There was nothing on those huge texts of medical gibberish that she should investigate about her client's family history except their allergies or illnesses. What drove her here to this point must be her sheer stupidity when droning herself to those damned books mentioned.

The moment the secretary ushered her towards the room with a nod, her resolve shook for a second. She suddenly felt the pressure in her stomach that was nonexistent until she heard the door shut with finality.

There was a feeling of sophistication and twisted elegance as she entered the room with a bated breath. The windows encompassed the whole wall. It revealed gradually melding skies blending into hues of bloody hues and violet streaks, sending something dreaded stirring deep at her stomach.

Two amber-slitted, serpentine-like orbs devoured her slowly crumbling facade.

Before the anxiety finally crashed down on her, she bowed out of pleasantries.

He raised a hand to indicate to the seat in front of her. "Sakura-chan." A smile flitted across that powdery chalk-colored face as he smirked. There was no need for her head to shout that the man across the room was someone to be watch out for.

"Orochimaru-sensei." It felt odd to find those ocher, viper-like stare at her. "I am rather surprised to be called here"

"Oh. You must have expected it sooner or later." He said, long ribbon like fingers lacing together as he settled them on the polished wooden mahogany desk. "Isn't it right, Sakura-chan?"

"For what business am I here, sensei?"

He flipped his long wavy, silky dark tresses over his shoulder. It was truly strange to see this death-like appearance wore the bearing of a certified physician. "Oh, someone will be pleased to meet you."

She felt her marrows turn into ice as she turned to occupied seat at the very end of the mahogany desk. There he was, a man of late twenties with a neatly-tied hair behind his inclined nape. Those intimidating pair of eyes reminded her of him.

"Good evening, Haruno-sensei."

Absentmindedly, she hitched a breath.

"Itachi-san."

The air obstructed her throat.

"I believe we have already met."

But she is perfectly calm, yes, she is.

"I have been informed that you are very interested with my little brother's case."

"Yes, I am." She was still lucky. Her voice did not waver, and there was no cold sweat breaking out of her skin. "He's been improving tremendously, I can assure you."

An iota of annoyance made known to his face, as the creases in his brow deepened.

"Really? You were always seen in the records section." She nearly forgot that the hospital director was still watching her with wicked amusement. "You are not only interested with his condition, right, Sakura-chan?"

"He is my patient." She would have gladly smacked him, but she is wiser now. "I have the right to access his--"

"I particularly instructed that those information are classified, Haruno-sensei." The older Uchiha, who was intensely observing the different shifting of facades, could surely see that she already knew what is going on.

"You do not have the authority."

"But I am his doc—"

"I know who you are, sensei."

Her skin prickled rather painfully.

"Indeed. We never expected such a pupil from her." She glanced for a second to Orochimaru's pale finger that traced the pathway of his lips, as if he is about to savor a sweet victory.

"Your brother, he does--"

She can hardly suppress the sudden urge to scream out her frustration at the unfairness of it all.

"Sasuke does not deserve this. Especially from you, Uchiha-san."

Those penetrating discernment in his gaze gave her an unpleasant knot on her thrumming chest.

"He has to stay."

In one fleeting second, the director of the establishment find himself deflated when the girl responded as she straightened her spine and met the intimidating gaze squarely. The smile on her face was completely reminiscent to a vice-loving female with blonde pigtails. "You cannot keep him here forever."

By the moment the huge grandiose curved doors closed behind her, the incredible nervousness that wanted to swallow her returned into full force. The meeting on the last few hours triggered an unquenchable anticipation to take action.

_It's over._

* * *

There was nothing he could see but the crimson fluid flicking to his face. 

There was nothing he could dream of except falling familiar corpses to the floor with a dull thud.

He was never been accustomed to her---irritating, grating, _warm_--presence. It has already been a week since she came and force-fed him with every kind of confectionary that existed on earth. He had a nasty intuition that she was doing this in purpose. She always tried to subdue any type of defenses that he built up in face of the different strangers in that crossed his way.

It seemed that she discerned everything about him when he could not even do so himself.

Yet there was something about the approach she utilized, as if she had already prepared (_for a long time_) what to say or to do whenever he brought about the subject of the only memory that resided so torturously inside his mind. She was probably tired of comforting him of this when she proposed to create one more memory for him.

It was another of those chilly evenings where he was more comfortable to stay behind the wide berth of his room. The mistake he did was to comply in answering the door with an acknowledging 'Hn.'.

The knob turned and he wanted to slam his brow to his palms.

"Quick!"

His cheek twitched at the sight. "Where are we going?"

"It will be safe." She assured him, and pushed it to nudge his hanging foot from the bed.

He knows such equipments were designed for safety. _Is she stupid?_

"I can walk." He stated it clearly and emphasized every syllable.

"But they won't let you out in this hole without this."

"The nurses can do this."

She responds amiably. "If you want them to drool all over your head, just tell me."

He threw the object with one of his teeth-chattering glares that she was surprised that the frame was not melting in any second.

"Sit here." Again, for the umpteenth time, she nudged the wheel on his foot.

He turned to look at her as if she had a deranged mind.

"I promise." She grinned. "Not too fast."

Grunt.

She smiled and knew at once that she won.

He heaved himself off the bed but a pair of white-sleeved coated arms wrapped them to his barely bare skin.

The soft, indistinct words were muttered in a strawberry scented breath.

"Let me help."

Pliant, callused hands found to attach at the low of his back and dug at his shoulder, hauling him.

It astounded him how much strength she held. His stubborn companion instructed him to hold her arms for more support as he memorizes the way her fragrance seems to envelop her. There was something spicy laced underneath the stench of sweat she carries. He wonders when he had ever smelled something that exotic. His mind fuzzily prodded him that he was enveloped on that same scent long ago, under bloody arms and tear-stained faces.

For a single, mesmerizing moment, he did not mind that he was here beneath her grasp.

As she lowered him on his wheel chair, he notices that blue embroidered characters in her coat.

A pang of guilt as something told him that he should know that name. _That name._

"Wait." She moved towards the small shelf placed across the furbished room. She promptly grabbed a navy colored collar shirt, a thick black overcoat and a pair of dark gloves and motioned him to wear it.

"It's cold outside." She answered his silent question as he lifted them off to his inspection. "The heater is full blast since afternoon, so you'll probably don't know."

"I don't need it."

"You are prone to colds." She bestowed him a vicious glare rivaling his own." And I know you hate shots."

_Damn woman._ He complied while his psyche happily supplied him different satisfying odd names for that annoying slip of a girl.

The noise of the pushed chair was disturbing his ears. It squelched underneath his weight, making him slightly uncomfortable. She told him not to worry about nonsensical things, about the inquiring stares from her colleagues or about this certain trouble they might meet if they come face to face with the consultant.

Her mouth, annoyingly, did not ran out of words as he hoped, continued to talk and add conjunctions till the end.

If she was trying to distract him from this ridiculous situation, she is not doing a great job.

And it was not cold. He was boiling hot.

She suddenly apologized that they could not take the elevator.

When he finally realized that they were going, he unconsciously clenched the handles.

He caught a glimpse of a resolute expression on her face.

She takes a deep breath and both of them descended as quietly as possible on the ramps.


End file.
